Delighted that her plan had worked, Isabelle stood in front of a slack jawed Grant wearing her finest leather dominatrix outfit, which consisted of a black corset that laced up the front and pushed her tits together to give her shadowy cleavage. Barely covering her crotch was a black leather skirt that didn’t hide her garters and sheer stockings. To top off the outfit, she wore bitching, supple leather knee high boots with three inch stiletto heels. And beneath it all, she wore no panties-which he couldn’t tell just by looking, of course-but she knew about it, and it made her feel deliciously wicked.

His eyes stayed riveted on her body.

Isabelle reached up and pulled out the pins that held her hair up, letting its silky mass tumble around her bare shoulders. She knew he liked her hair loose. She knew a lot of things about Grant, even things he thought were secret.

Licking her lips in a sensuous motion that made him swallow, she laughed. “You’ve been a bad boy, Grant. And you know what? I’ve got a special punishment for bad boys like you.” Just saying the words sent a delicious shiver throughout her body, one that made her wet.

A tremble wracked his body, and the bulge in his pants twitched. Isabelle strutted around his chair prison to stand behind him. Grabbing his thick, dark hair, she forced his head back, lowered her lips to his ear, and whispered, “I'm going to make you sorry, Grant. Sorry you didn’t try and keep me when you had a chance.”

She bit his earlobe and chuckled throatily at his cry and jerk of pain. This is going to be fun.

Grant heartily regretted his decision to pretend he’d never touched Isabelle, especially when he saw her decked out in his greatest leather fantasy. He found this naughty, dominant Isabelle even sexier than the one he already knew. It was almost as if she’d seen the images he’d saved in the hidden folder on his computer at home. The ones where women took charge of men and punished them in delicious ways. A secret desire in which he’d never indulged.